Episode 1: Shadows in the Light
by Grand Admiral Harmon
Summary: AU. Obi-wan Kenobi and his apprentice Darth Vader are sent to Mandalore to settle a secession crises which threatens the stability of the Republic. What starts as negotiations ends up as the first ripples that will undo the peace enjoyed by the Galaxy.
1. The Chancellor's Request

**Summary:**

**What would have happened if there was a parallel universe to the Known Galaxy? A Universe where all of the people from the Known was there, but none were exactly like thier counterparts in the Known Galaxy, and the state of things were different.**

**This is an attempt to bring it to light. Obi-wan Kenobi and his apprentice, Darth Vader, are sent to bring back the wayward Mandalore system back into the Republic, and put to ease their secessionist desires. However, they will be hard put to it, for behind the scenes, the armies of Mandalore are amassing for war, and they are getting help from the Commerce Guild and Trade Federation, enemies of the Republic, though there is no war. Yet.**

**Meanwhile, it is Qui-Gon Jinn's unhappy duty as the member of the High Council assigned to the Council of Reassignment (they send would-be Jedi who never recieved a master to other occupations) to take the young but beautiful Padme Amidala to Tatooine, where she shall recieve new work as a mechanic for the Toydarian Watto. **

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader walked down the hallway towards the chancellor's office. They knew this day had been coming for a long time. But all the same it still suprised them when it did happen. War.

The Mandalorians had for many years threatening to break away from the Republic. But no one had suspected they were serious, until today. How could they have known that 10 years ago that things were going to end up this bad?

Even as they walked to the office of the chancellor, Vader could not understand why something like this could happen. The Republic stood always stood for peace and justice, everyone knew that. That is why the Mandalorians had joined the Republic in the first place.

That is why it all other planets have joined to the Republic. The Republic had stood for security. Vader cannot understand why someone would turn their back on a Republic that stood for such things. But then again, there are a lot of things about the galaxy he did not understand.

He looked over at Obi-wan and saw that his master was a lot calmer than that he himself felt. Vader had always wondered about the calm demeanor of his master. He also wanted to be that calm himself. But, he never seemed to be able to master it.

"Master Obi-wan," Vader said, "what could the Chancellor possibly want with us? We are not to soldiers and we are not politicians."

"There are many things that Vallorum might need us for," Obi-wan replied not looking at him, "just what that might be I do not know."

Vader mumbled to Obi-wan, "It better not be anything stupid."

"When the Chancellor asks us to do something it is not stupid," Obi-wan rebuked his young apprentice, "remember that Vader. We are to serve the chancellor as long as he leads us in the right direction."

They arrived outside the office doors which were flanked by a pair of blue robed guard who held blaster rifles by their sides, the butt of their rifles on the floor. Vader looked at the helmets of the guards the black visors blocking their faces from those that would look at them. It made them intimidating, at least to those who were weak minded.

"We are here to see the Chancellor," Obi-wan said, "he has requested our presence."

"What are your names?" One of the guards asked. Vader believed it was the one on the left that had asked but had it not been for the Force he might not have been able to know who it said it. Their visors indeed worked very well in obscuring their faces including there mouths from them.

"Obi-wan Kenobi," Obi-wan said introducing themselves, "and Darth Vader. Jedi Knights of the Jedi Order."

The guard held up his left wrist which had a holo chrone which was embedded in his armor. Chancellor Vallorum, he said into the device, Obi-wan Kenobi and Darth Vader are here to see you.

"Yes, yes, send them in immediately," a man on the other end of the line said.

The guard jerked his head sideways and the door slid open and Obi-wan and Vader stepped through into the office.

Vader looked around the office. There are couple statues scattered throughout the room. There also a couple paintings could be seen hanging from the wall, painted by the Calamari he believed. There were few seats that were set in a semicircle around a desk near a great window which had a perfect view of that traffic outside. Many speeders and transports could be seen flying around the city's sky scrapers and other buildings. Aways off he could even see the five spires that were the Jedi Temple.

But his gaze was drawn to the man behind the desk. Chancellor Vallorum sat behind a desk in a chair, it's back not quite reaching his white-haired head.

"I'm so glad you both can make it," Vallorum said, "please take a seat."

They walked took the chairs closest to the chancellor's desk. Once they were comfortable in their seats, Obi-wan said, "What can we do for you Chancellor? Your message said it was something of some importance."

"Yes indeed," Chancellor Vallorum said, putting the tips of his fingers against each other, making them look like a steeple roof, "I assume you know of the recent events that has occurred Master Kenobi."

It was not a question; it was a statement. "Indeed Chancellor," Obi-wan agreed, "the news of Mandalore are dreadful tidings indeed for the Galactic Republic."

"They are the worst we can receive at this time," Vallorum said with a sense of urgency that almost bordered terror, "Mandalore is a key system on our border. If we are not able to convince Mandalore to return to the Republic, then our enemies will have an advantage if they decide to go to war with us. We cannot allow that to happen."

"I agree Chancellor," Obi-wan said, "if the Trade Federation and the Commerce Guild decide to join force it to would be bad for us. What happened that would force them to declare to secede from the Republic?"

"I'm pretty sure that you can guess why this happened," the Chancellor said with a sad smile.

Obi-wan sighed, "I am sure I could."

"That is why I need you," said Vallorum, "I want you and your apprentice to go talk to the Mandalorians to convince them that this is a mistake to leave the Republic. Otherwise my advisers suggested going to war with them. And from the sounds of things in the Senate the majority of them are also want to go to war with the Mandalorians."

"I can't believe that," Vader said in disbelief, "Mandalore has always been a peaceful place why would people want to go to war with them?"

"You forget Vader," Vallorum said, "Before they were a peaceful people, their Death Watch was one of the more formidable forces in the Galaxy. The Wars that were fought against them caused catastrophic damage and loss of life. People want to prevent such a war from happening again, even if it means fighting another war to do so. Ironic, isn't it."

"I can assure you Chancellor," Obi-wan said, "we shall do everything in our power to stop such a thing from happening."

Vallorum smiled in relief. "I knew I could count on you two," he said that, "may the Force be with you two on this mission. Everything depends upon."


	2. Mandalore

The coordinates had been put into the navigation computer. It would be a total of 6 hours before they would arrive at the Mandaloria System. Although the 6 hours would be long and dreary, it would give Vader time to be able to talk to his master and learn more about his past.

"Our ETA to Mandalore is 6 hour", Vader said, looking over the controls to the ship.

Obi-wan nodded and said, "Very well. It's been years since I've been able to see Mandaloria and see the planet, the long rowing plains, the sparkling crystal city of Sundari."

"The Chancellor seems to be able to trust us on this certain assignment," Vader commented, throwing a side glance at his master.

"Oh indeed," Obi-wan said leaning back his chair, "I am one of the few who has ever set foot on Mandaloria that wasn't a Taung. They are a very xenophobic people by nature."

"Why did they allow you to land then?" Vader asked surprised.

"They didn't have much of a choice," Obi-wan admitted, "Yoda and I were forced to crash land after our ship was shot down by some Geonosians after a failed negotiation with them. A small dispute over illegal weapon sales to the Commerce Guild. But, the inhabitants allowed us to stay on the planet for six months until our ship was the repaired. While on Mandaloria we were able to settle a dispute about some regional boundaries with two factions on the planet. Ever since then Yoda and myself are permitted to visit whenever we like."

"Did you meet the Duchess?" Vader asked, very interested now in a Obi-wan's experience.

"Satine Kryze?" Obi-wan said almost as a question, "I did know Satine. That was before she was a Duchess. Unfortunately we did not part on the best terms."

"I hope she's a forgiving person," commented Vader, a little surprised at the first name use of one of the most influential women in the galaxy.

"Indeed," Obi-wan said, very seriously, "or else these will be short negotiations."

* * *

Mandalore looked like a white ball from the view port of the small Republic negotiating cruiser, _Marathon Runner._ It wasn't particularly a large planet and it had no moon. One small dwarf star could be seen shining brightly, from their view it seemed to be just above the planet. It was a very remote planet, being about to sixteen light-years from then closest star system.

"You know," Vader said, "I do like the white color of the planet. It reminds me of a pearl."

"In some ways it is a pearl," Obi-wan mused, "it has been 16 years since I've last visited this planet. I hope things will be able to settle down before anything bad happens."

"You and me both," Vader said.

At that moment there was a beeping from a side panel. Vader took a look at it and announced, "We are being hailed Master."

"Open a channel to them," he instructed.

Vader nodded his head and pushed a square-shaped red button, and thier forward screen was replaced by first a symbol. It was the helmet of a Mandalorian warrior, red in color, set between a small brown star, which was surrounded by a white mass, probably Mandalore itself. It was there only a second before they could see an elderly man in a green uniform worn from nearly three decades of almost daily service.

"Unindentified vessel. I am Captain Androd Typho of the Mandalorian Defense Fleet," he said with what amounted to a smug sense of superiority, "You have entered our space. Identify yourselves."

"This is the Republic Diplomat Cruiser _Marathon Runner_," Obi-wan said, "We are on a Diplomatic mission on behalf of the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic to the Duchess of Mandalore."

Typho smirked noticeably as he replied, "No ships come in our out without proper authorization codes from the Department of Populations. So, you can turn your ship around and leave or I will send an squadron of Droid Fighters to send you off. Which will it be?"

"My authorization code is 9-1-Alpha-9-1-Gamma-Blue," Obi-wan replied to him, to which Typho laughed coldly.

"Don't be a fool!" he finally said with deadly seriousness, "There is no codes given to outsiders. So, either you are blind, or stupid. In any case, I don't believe you."

"You may check," Obi-wan said, not smiling, "And I suggest you check the Governmental Files."

Typho sighed and turned to a computer and types in the code. Meanwhile, Vader noticed several small dots rising from the night-side of the planet. He didn't even have time to tell his master before he felt the calming reassurance of his master._ I know they are there. But so are we._

Vader smiled, but he was not so confident in the current status of things as did Obi-wan. Those small dots had taken up a position that they could easily reach their unarmed ship in minutes. He was feeling uncomfortable, and his fingers began working semi-consciously over the navi controls. Things could turn ugly very quickly.

A couple minutes passed, Typho continuing to look for the records. Soon enough he looked back at them, his eyes wide with visible shock. Obviously he had not believed Obi-wan when he was talking, but the records didn't lie.

"How did you get an authorization code?" Typho asked in complete shock.

"How I got it is not your concern," Obi-wan stated, "now are you going to let us land, or am I going to need to get the Duchess?"

"No," Typho slowly said, "that won't be necessary. You may begin your approach to Sundari."

"Thank you very much," Obi-wan said, "_Marathon Runner_ out."

Vader let out a noticeable sigh of relief. He looked back and the small dots had disappeared. Obviously they had nothing to worry about from the Defense Forces. But he didn't like how close things could have gone wrong.

As he pushed forward the thrusters and sat in a course for the capital city, Obi-wan turned to him and said, "Oh and one last thing. We can't use your nickname here."

"Oh really?" Vader said looking over at him and raising an eyebrow.

"Many years ago," Obi-wan explained, "a Dark Jedi tried to usurp the government of Mandalore. He eventually succeed in overthrowing the government and for 30 years ruled with an iron fist. It was he who first set up Death Watch. It took many lives to finally defeat him."

"And what was his name?" Vader asked, very interested in this bit of information.

"Darth Vader the Resurrector."


	3. The Duchess

Chapter 3: The Duchess

The duchess stood on the circular landing platform surrounded by three aides and four guards. It had been many years since the tall slender woman had had the honor and pleasure of seeing Obi-wan kenobi and looked forward to seeing him again. She wondered if he would had forgiven her for the harsh words and had been exchanged when he had left.

One of her aides coughed into his hand then in an aside to the other man said, "Jedi. We do not need their kind to tell us how to run our affairs."

The other men nodded slowly, "We are free to do as we wish."

"Only if the chancellor would allow us to do what we want then none of this would happen," the first man grunted.

The female aide overheard the remarks and said to them, "If the duchess wishes us to meet with the Jedi, then we will meet with them."

The small slender cruiser rapidly descended from the sky. As it came closer to the platform, it started to slow down until it seemed to be floating to the ground. There's very little of buffeting of air as it came to the ground. The landing clamps buckled slightly as the ship settled.

As the small gathering looked, a small metal ramp began to come forth from the ship and then started to slant down until it came to the ground. A door at the head of the ramp opened and down the ramp came two figures, one tall, muscular and with sandy brown short hair. The other was a little shorter and not as muscular, but he also had sandy brown hair. His walk, unlike the taller man's, was more caculated, experiance having taught the man that one did not rush to the unknown or even the known.

They bowed low when they were ten feet from the Duchess. The taller one simply leaned his torso over then came back up, but the other one gave the ceremonial greeting of putting his index and middle fingers on his forehead as he came back up, then letting them fall to the side of his body.

Satine was pleased that Obi-wan had not forgotten the greeting. "Welcome Jedi to our humble planet and our equally humble capitol Sundari," she said, very professionally, very voice a tiny deeper then woman's wont, "I am Duchess Satine Kwazry."

"Thank you," Obi-wan replied, "I am Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi and this is my apprentice, Qymaen jai Sheelal."

"You excellancy," Vader said, again lowering his head.

"Ah," Satine said, placing a hand on Vader's forehead, a symbol of acceptance and friendship towards strangers, "If this isn't the Darth Vader of the Jedi Order." She laughed at Vader's shock and the shock of her aides, "I have been keeping updated on my old friend Kenobi and learned of the deeds of Qymaen jai Sheelal, whom Master Yoda named Darth Vader for his intresting paper on how the Sith actually served the Galaxy well."

Vader slightly paled. "It was simply a paper Master Yoda wished written on which one was to take a subject and take a diffrent approach then was his usual opinion," he muttered.

"Do not apologize," Satine smiled, "The life of a Jedi must also be one of a negotiator. If a negotiator cannot see both sides of the argument, he cannot come to an arangement that will be satisfactory to all involved. But come, we have much to discuss about."

The group turned and began to walk back towards the palace, which could be seen about mile and a half away.

"Are you sure?" the voice on the other end of the comlink demanded.

"No doubt about it," the man said, looking down on the group through binoculars which had the ability to identify diffrent people it's view spied, "Definantly Jedi."

"Hmm," the voice said.

As the man laid on the cliff nearly two miles from the landing platform, he had to smile. Had anyone seen him now, they would have not seen a man. They would have seen a warrior, completely clad in armor, painted black and gold. The black symoblizing Justice and the gold Vengance. That was the motto of Death Watch 'Justice and Vengance'. On his breastplate was a red symbol, that looked like a 'T' with the lines jutting alongside it. The symbol of Death Watch.

"If Jedi are here," the man on the comlink said, "That means the Republic is involved. If the Republic is involved, that means someone didn't keep their promise."

"Yes," the man said, "They are out of sight now."

"Get out of there," the voice ordered, "Get back to our outpost on Mount Tanor. I have a call to make."

"Egra Panaka," the old man said, blueish in the holo projection, "What is it this time?"

"You promised us that the Republic would not be involved," Panaka snarled, his face hidden behind the T-shaped mask of his helmet, "But, the Jedi are here! We are not ready yet. Your troops have not arrived."

"The Trade Federation is still building up its armies and the Commerce Guild does not wish to become involved in a war at this moment," the man said, kniting his fingers and leaning his elbows against what was probably a desk, even though it didn't show up in the hologram, "I would advise you not to make any rash decisions for another month."

"Listen Count," Panaka said, clenching his fist, "We only agreed to the secession because you would give us support. To liberate us from the whims of the Republic. But, if you Confederacy of Independant Factions cannot help us, I will turn to the Kaminoans. They at least have an army ready for us."

"Again," the Count calmly said, "I advise you to wait. There is no reason to go after those morally corrupt longnecks."

"Then give us the help we desire," he said, "And now! Or is the illustrious Count Duckoo not the man of reputation we have all heard of?"

"You are not the only thing I am concerned with," Duckoo replied, "I have more then just you to worry about. You will have to make do until the end of the month. Then we shall be ready."

Panaka sighed after a bit. "Fine," snarled Panaka, "One month. Then, if you are not ready, we will get the Kaminoans involved." And with that he shut off the holocom.


	4. Tatooine

**Chapter 4: Tatooine**

Anakin looked down at the consels on his pod. The vents had given him troubles over the past month, and unless he got it working, he wasn't ever going to participate in the pod-races ever again. He had spent the last bit of money he had, and he couldn't afford to borrow from Maul anymore. Not that he ever felt to comfortable around Maul. He was a good man and all, but, he always felt kind of scared whenever he entered his dark home.

A green light beeped after a slight adjustment. Anakin took a glance at the panel showing the layout of the engines and he could see the vents opening and closing. He glanced back and they seemed to work just fine.

"Okay," he muttered to himself, "let's give it a shot."

He turning on the engines, and it rose slightly, hovering a little above the ground, wavering as it hovered. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, sparks began flying out of the back of the engines, with the sound of blaster fire. He didn't even need to think to react to turn a few switches and flop down a few levers before it shut off.

Again, he hadn't even needed to look. His fingers had slid over the controls by themselves. Sometimes, it felt like he left his body or would feel someone else holding his hands. It wasn't the first time it had happened.

"Krif!" he barked, climbing out of the pod then dropped down onto the ground.

He strode over to the engines and looked at the back of the long cylinder engines. The backs had blown out, the cone shapped back pannels blown out like a laser bolt hitting a ship from space. The jagged edges looked like sharp instruments of death.

"I'll never be ready now," he moaned, throwing the hydrospanner onto the ground in dissappointment.

"Well, well," a warm, oily voice said behind him, "What is this? The wonder boy finally defeated by a piece of machinery."

"Mr. Maul," he said, trying hard to keep up an optomistic spirit, "I could fix it, but, I can't change the laws of nature."

Maul stepped up by him. He was about six feet high, his Zabarik skin tatooed in red and black stripes. His head was crowned by a dozen horns, his eyes red and orange. Anakin remembered once asking Maul if his skin was red, black or actually both or perhaps a different color. He also remembered Maul looking him dead in the eye and said, 'Sometimes an answer is more dangerous then an answer."

"Please," Maul said in a kind yet annoyed voice, "Call me Darth. Friends do not need such formalities."

Anakin almost shivered. Something about the word Darth made his skin crawl everytime he thought about it. He didn't know what it was.

"Okay Darth," he shivered, "But, something about the word gives me the chills. No disrespect intended."

"None taken," he shrugged, "Let me tell you something though. I know something about specail abilities, and you are very special. Think of ways around the problem. Sometimes, you must stop trying the same course of action and change strategy."

"I don't understand," he said, looking over at him in confusion, "I've tried everything."

"Oh really?" Maul asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I have!"

"If I may suggest," he said, "You have the back blocked off. Perhaps opening it will allow you to shoot off into the horizon."

Anakin furrowed his eyebrow. _He does have a point. I might need to go around this his way._

With new determination, he grabbed a spanner and began to meld the blast holes into cones with openings in the end. It took a couple minutes, but, soon he jumped into the cockpit and began to try to turn on the engines.

"Keep clear!" he called out, and Maul stepped back.

With a voosh, and with what sounded like a sandstorm, the engines roared to life and fire started spewing forth from the ends. They rose until they were three feet off the ground and held the position they were at.

"Yes!" Anakin shouted, and turning them back off, jumped out of the pod in exhiliration.

"Darth!" he excailmed, throwing his arms around his friend, "Your idea worked."

"The idea was in your head," Maul replied, "I only helped bring it to the forefront. You have a touch of destiny. Now come. Let us go to the Cantina for dinner."

Anakin was more then glad to be going. Despite Maul's oddities, he was as close to a friend as he would ever have. He wasn't known to have very many. He had always made the other kids very scared. Unexplained things had always happened around him. And even though he had won the Bonta Eve twice now, people viewed him as strange. Perhaps it was because he had been the only human ever to pilot a pod.

"So my boy," Maul said, rubbing his horns as they moved through the streets towards the cantina which they could see at the end of the street, "Shall you make it three wins in a row?"

"I hope so," Anakin smiled, "After three wins I qualify to go to the Dantooine Farm Races."

"You will have the money to get there then?" Maul asked, looking down at the young man.

"Yeah," the thirteen year old said, running his hand across his cheek to wipe off the sweat that had accumulated from his five hours of work, "I've saved up 13,000 credits. Should be enough."

They passed by the junk shop of Watto and as he passed Anakin glanced at Watto. Watto was slumped up against the wall, a half-empty bottle of ale in his hand. A damaged pit droid laid at his feet, the nose popped off which exposed the wires inside the brain and it made whimpering noises. Watto was also not in a good mood, muttering to himself.

"Wait a minute," Anakin said, and not even giving Maul and explanation turned and headed towards the old Toydarian.

He stepped up to him and his shadow fell over the drunken alien. Watto grumbled and raised his hand to ward off an attack. But Anakin simply bent down and grabbed the pit droid. He took a single glance at it and his hands moved seemlessly over the broken droid. He did not think, he did not resist. The guiding force of his life came and moved his hands, moving him from piece to piece, placing popped out plug into their hidden sockets and tied the correct wires to each other. Without so much as a glance he grabbed the circular nose piece and screwed in place.

As he finished he handed it to the Toydarian, who in his haze could barely see two inches infront of himself. Anakin placed it gently on his lap and placing a hand on the drunken man's shoulder said, "Watto, take care."

He stood up and walked to the side of Maul who had stopped as well to watch the boy. As Anakin began heading off towards the Cantina, Maul had a small smile on his face. Had Anakin been looking, he would have been bewildered by the very cool nature of the motion.

After they headed far enough away, out of the shadows between two building walked a man. He was robed in a dark brown robe, his arms laced together in the sleeves. He watched the back of the young man and his friend, watching them like one who recognizes something of his past.

"-and that was when I told him," Maul finished his story, "That it wasn't my father, it was a beetle."

Anakin laughed out loud, "Maul, you are so intresting. Mom would like to meet you sometime."

"Well," Maul chuckled, "She just might-"

Maul froze and swung his head around behind them. Someone had been watching them, he could sense it. But no one was there anymore. Anakin glanced at him and crained his own neck to see what was what.

"Did you feel that?" Maul asked.

"That someone was looking at us?" Anakin shrugged, "I feel that all the time."

"This was different," Maul growled, "Something I have only felt once before..."

Anakin raised an eyebrow and waited for Maul. A minute passed before Maul slowly lowered his eyes and said, "Forget it. Let's keep moving."


	5. Then He Saw Her Face

**Chapter 5: Then He Saw Her Face**

The speeder barreled past Anakin as he approached his home. Mom would be expecting him by now, and oh how she loved to fuss over him. Especially when he was late. _No_, he said firmly to himself, _I'll be home_.

He turned towards his home, feeling a little preoccupied. His amazing track record had not prepared him for coming of age. He realized he had no idea how or what he would do if the circumstances became such that he could go to the Dantooine Farm Races. He would be unable to stay on Tatooine. His popularity would grow beyond his capacity to contain on this speck of dirt out in the middle of nowhere.

"What is popularity anyways?" Anakin muttered to himself, "Nothing more then a bad excuse to avoid responsibilities that do indeed needs ones attention."

He turned the last turn, and he stopped, his eyes taking in a woman he had never seen before. The girl stepped out of a nearby shop, her face dirty and ashen. He stepped over to a wall nearby and leaned against it, to watch what she would do. There was a metal barrel of precious water right next to the door she stepped out of, and she grabbed both sides with her hands and thrust her face into the water.

She had barely done so, when she flung her head back, wet hair flying around in clumps. She used her dirty sleeves to wipe dry her face, smugging the dirt and grim more then removing it. She looked up towards Anakin, not realizing he was there and Anakin was struck by the flawless almost oval shape of her face, the dark brown hair in wet clumps. A freckle was on her cheek close to her nose and her green eyes even from the distance they were apart could be seen to show a quiet intellect.

_Who is she?_ Anakin asked himself, _I've never seen her before._

Next thing he knew, his legs were moving forward and his feet were carrying him closer to her. The closer he got, the more he realized that she could not have been much older then himself. Perhaps seventeen. But he was already almost to her eye level, and he marvelled at the shape of her body and the long slender fingers on her hands.

He was within two steps of her now, and without much thought of what to say, he said, "Are you an angel?"

She froze in her movements and looked up at him, a startled look in her eyes. Her head swerved first left, then right. Then, seeing no one else around, turned to him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What?" she asked, her voice somewhat suspicious, almost as if she didn't dare believe that someone would talk to her.

"An angel," Anakin repeated, "They're the most beautiful creatures in the universe. They live on the moons of Iego...I think."

She looked stunned by the compliment and comparison. Her eyes remained fixed on Anakin, who thought to himself, _Are you an angel? Really? Was that the best you could come up with?_

"You're a funny little boy," she muttered, turning back to the metal barrel, "How do you know so much?"

Anakin felt his heart drop. _Little boy_?

"I listen to the Deep Space pilots talk and such," he said, shrugging, "I'm a pilot you know, and soon, I'm going to leave this place."

"You're a pilot?" she asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

"Um-hum," he nodded his head, "All my life."

"How long have you been here?" she asked, leaning on the barrel, her simple blue clothing hanging loose on her.

"Since I was little," he shrugged, "About the time Mom married my Stepdad."

"I'm sorry," she muttered, throwing a nervous glance at the windows of the house, "This is a strange place to me."

Anakin watched her look again at the house and it raised more then one question. Why did she keep looking nervously at the house? What made her so seemingly uncomfortable with the attention he was showing her?

After a short and almost awkward silence, Anakin said, "I'm a pilot. And my name is Anakin."

"Anakin," the woman said with the tinniest of smiles.

"Padme!" a voice shouted, and Anakin watched the grimace that spread across her face at the voice, "Laundry time! Padme, I am not going to tell you again."

"I'll be there Mistress Corde," Padme called back into the house.

She stood up slowly and it was only now that Anakin noticed the bruises on the back of her neck. The dark purple blotches on her nuckles. The discolouring on that peeked out of her neckline near her shoulders.

"I'm a slave," Padme said softly.

"You're a person," Anakin said evenly, and touched her arm where he felt a massive welt, "And your name is Padme."

Padme blinked once at him before walking towards the door. She laid her hand on the sandy wall and turned back to Anakin. There was something in her eyes. Almost gratitude. Almost confusion.

"I am glad to have met you Anakin," she muttered and entered the building, closing the door behind her.

"I was glad to meet you too," Anakin said to the door where she had just vanished.


	6. The Politics of the Duchess

Chapter 6: The Politics of the Duchess

Vader sat with straight back as he listened to the humdrum of poiltics. Never had he been one intrested in the babbalings of old men, not even now that he was trying to keep Mandalor in the Republic. And he noticed even Obi-wan was getting less and less attentive to the blusterings of Chairman Hedral, the head of the Duchess' Royal Court.

"The negotiations haven't started because the ambassadors aren't there," he finished his long drawn out filibuster on why the Republic should leave Mandalor to itself.

"How can that be true?" Obi-wan asked as he supressed a yawn, "I had assurances from the Chancellor the ambassadors did arrive."

"Senator Palpatine was suppose to be in charge of it I heard," another council member whose name Vader had forgotten.

"What's happening?" Duchess Satine asked, "Did you check the communications relay to see if we had heard word on his progress?"

"I will not believe that the Duchess Satine truely considers the Confederacy a better option then the Republic," Obi-wan said.

"But at last we might get results," Hedral countered, "When has the Republic actually ever been on top with helping it's citizens?"

"You must rely on negotiations," Obi-wan said, trying to keep himself from becoming too extremely bored with these people.

"Negotiations?" Satine asked.

"We have warriors," the head of the Royal Guard said, "But they would be no match against the battle hardened armies of the Confederacy should they choose to attack. And the Republic does not believe in standing armies either."

"Are you accusing the Republic of something?" Vader asked calmly, nearly startling the members of the Council in the room, for he had reserved himself quiet well.

"Of course not," the soldier said, glaring at Vader, "But I merely point out that should the Confederacy want this planet and system, who could stop them?"

"You assume too much," Vader quietly replied, "If you think they will attack you. The Confederacy of Independent Systems survives because of popularity and sympathy feelings both in and out of the Republic and border systems. If they invaded the would loose those feelings and support and be finished."

"No," Satine snapped, and everyone in the room turned to her, "I will not condone a course of action that will lead us to war. Not with or against either the Republic or Confederacy."

Satine sat at the head of the table, servants bringing out plates of food. Vader sat to her left, his eyes darting back and forth from wall to wall, and from servant to guard. She had observed him all day long and had concluded that he was simply too overeager for his own good. Obi-wan sat on her right, and she couldn't look at him without old feelings being enflamed, and only her proffesonial detachment kept her from slipping back entirely to her old feelings towards him.

"I hear Death Watch has been remobolized," Kenobi said, after the last servant had left the room, leaving only Satine and her guards with them.

"You can leave us," she said, turning to her guard on the right.

"But, my Lady-" he began but she held up a finger.

"My dear Sergeant Oli," she said in a kind but firm voice, "Do you really think that if the Jedi meant me harm that you really could stop them?"

"Madame," the guard to her left said, "I don't think it is wise-"

"They are ambassadors to the Supreme Chancellor," she said, turning her green gaze towards him, "And Master Kenobi is a personal friend of mine. You need not worry."

Both guards glared at the Jedi but would never disobey a direct order from the Duchess. They used thier massive vibro-staves to hold their balance, and bowed low, one foot going back and bending thier knees. Their free hands were pressed across thier stomachs and they inclined thier heads until their eyes were looking at their knees. Then, they rose and stepped backwards, and through the curtained hallways leading to the alcoves.

She looked at Obi-wan, but her eyes were unseeing, "Ric Olie has been at my side since you left Mandalor. He's been a very faithful companion."

"So the rumors are true," Obi-wan sighed.

"I am afraid so," she shook her head.

Vader raised an eyebrow. "Who is Death Watch?" he asked.

"Death Watch is a group of Mandalorian warriors who never are part of the military," Obi-wan explained, "They're madeup of veterans, outlaws, and gangsters. They form when they see a threat to the safety of Mandalor. But they are a very dangerous lot. They serve either themselves, the ruler, or the faction they feel can right the wrong, even if it is false."

"And I have heard rumors they are allying themselves with the Confederacy," Satine said, picking up her fork, a strange utensil of three prongs that the outer two curved outwards and only the center remained straight.

"Do you believe such rumors?" Kenobi asked, leaning an elbow onto the table.

"No," she firmly said, stabbing a piece of fruit, "They are many things, but traitors to everything Mandalor holds dear, never."


	7. Phantom Races

**Chapter 7: Phantom Races**

Anakin awoke in his room, turning over to look at his step-brother, Owen Lars. Owen slept in a bed on the opposite side of the room, dreaming dreams only he could know. Drool trickled from the side of his mouth against the pillow he lay on, muttering in his sleep.

The wind howled outside, and a glance out the window showed a nice sandstorm blowing. But, it seemed in the final stages. Not enough to prevent the races today. It was with great exhiliration that he jumped out of the bed and got dressed.

His mom was waiting at the table in the kitchen, sitting with his stepfather, Cliegg Lars. Anakin had never taken on his stepfathers name as his own, despite his mother's urgings. No, Anakin knew he was destined to walk the sky. He was a Skywalker. Simple as that.

He was thirteen after all. No longer a child.

"So," Cliegg said in his gruff voice, his stubble of a beard covering most of his face, "The conquering hero awakes."

"It was probably a good idea," Anakin shrugged, sitting down to a plate of warm food that was at the table.

"Personally," Shmi said, "I hate these races. Everything revolves around those awful races."

"I love it," Anakin said, not happy to be listening to yet _another_ lecture about the dangers of podracing. Could they not just eat in peace?

"Racing is a vile and criminal sport," Cliegg snorted, "The Hutts are the ones behind the races. They get a good cut off any deal or bet placed during the races."

"I don't care about that," Anakin said, feeling heat rise into his cheeks, "Listen, I love it. And our winnings are more than enough to help us maintain the house and help our neighbors."

"Anakin," Shmi said with an exasperated sigh. She really didn't want to argue with her son over this matter again.

"Mom," Anakin threw up his hands, "Aren't you the one who says the whole problem with this galaxy is no one cares for each other? How can we if we don't have the means?"

"There is more to being helpful then just monetary donations, son," Cliegg said, then turning to his plate said, "Let us just eat this meal and think no more about it."

No, no more was said as they ate their meal. His stepbrother Owen sat across the table, a few years older than he was, glaring at him. Owen had always been a bit more of those that abided by the rules and did what they were told. Anakin, on the other hand, needed the thrill of the race and adventure as it called his name.

No, it didn't faze him at all. It honed his senses as the time approached for the action. Sure, he was nervous a bit, but as the time approached he would find himself calmed in such a way that was amazing to behold. Even though Anakin didn't see it, Shmi and Cliegg looked upon his calm demeanor and passed a glance between them. They knew he was bound for great things; greater then this backwater world could provide him.

* * *

Maul stood in the alleyway across the street from Anakin house. As he watched it, his eyes glowed with a red and golden fire that seemed to consume him. Soon, very soon, he was going to be presentable.

He pulled out a small comlink from a pocket in his robe that he wore draper over his body and pushed a button. A few long seconds passed, as the little used device bounced off of waves within waves, within waves to reach its destination. Maul had learned patience, which was an ultimate tool. A small hologram flickered a shadowy figure on a high backed chair sat forward.

"Well, well," the figure said in a tongue only a few understood, an ancient language of such nobility, cruelty and barbarity that it was an experience in and of itself to hear, "Lord Maul. After all these years you finally report in. I had written you off as dead."

"Forgive me, My Lord," he bowed his head low in submission, "But the Jedi have been more active here the past years. I cannot foretell their arrival at all times."

"That is no excuse," the speaker said with a calmness that chilled the very air around Maul, "You risk it now, when you know they are on the planet and nearby. Why have you now chosen to report and risk what you feared before?"

Maul cursed inwardly. How was it that his Lord and Master could know the Jedi were on the planet. Was his power truly unlimited? What could he not see?

"The boy," he said with a smile, watching as the door opened and the child skipped from his house, heading towards the race course, "It is time."

There was a pause. It was not hesitation on the part of his master. No, he watched his master lean further towards him. "Will he come willingly?" his Master asked.

"He will when I present my offer," Maul said with a deep chuckle, "We will have no need to hide anymore, my Lord."

* * *

The thundering cheers of the crowds outside was deafening. Anakin was alone, his parents having decided not to come. Not even his mom, who couldn't stand the thought of the awful races. Maul had met him as he left his house and had offered his assistance to get the pod racer to the stadium. So, they had talked and laughed at little jokes and stories.

But, Anakin had noticed something. He was pretty good at telling when people were on edge, and Maul, despite his attempts to appear calm, had oozed anxiety. Perhaps it was just his way of showing concern over his young friend. But no, he seemed to be distracted, as if thinking about something else.

He shrugged it off though. He had to be focused on the day. On what needed to be done. As he made the final checks to his pod, he reached up to grab a small scanner to check one final thing, when he felt a shadow fall over him. He looked up to see a tall man, with a short light brown beard with what looked white hairs sticking through it, a large nose and long hair which fell around and behind his shoulders.

"You are Anakin Skywalker?" the man asked, looking down at him.

"Yes sir," he replied.

"My name is Qui-Gon," he addressed himself, "And I heard of a boy that could perform miracles in the podraces."

"I've won ever race the past couple years," Anakin beamed with pride, "And next year I'm going to enter the Malastar races."

"Malastar?" Qui-Gon asked, "That's a dangerous race course. Only four are rated more dangerous than it in the entire league."

"I know," Anakin said, running the scanner over it as a wide smile played across his face.

A silence fell over them as Qui-Gon looked over the podracer and the power couplings. Anakin could feel the eye of someone who was either an expert in the podracing field or just a very good judger of what he saw. Qui-Gon nodded.

"An elegant design," he remarked, "Not too massive, and not too long. Your racer was built for speed, not show."

"Not entirely," Anakin said defensively.

"Show is not what's important," Qui-Gon explained, "One must be in complete control. And the only way one can be is for the driver and the vehicle to achieve a state of oneness. Where they virtually become the same entity. If you are as good as you claim, you can do that."

Anakin thought on it. What the man said made sense. Everything had to be merged, so you don't even have to see to know what's wrong. Or right.

"I will be watching you closely," Qui-Gon said and walked out of the shed to take his seat in the stands.

* * *

Anakin could never remember the race as a whole. Even now, as he shot across the landscape, dodging and passing other speeders, it seemed surreal in a way. The adrenaline might have had something to do with it. But no, he only could remember the power that surged through him. The half-second intuition that popped up. He had learned how to use that to his advantage and how to always follow it.

There was no thought. There was only concentration. There was no distraction. Not even as he nearly get's runoff the side of the track by his rival Sebulba. The slimo would not beat him. He was young, he was invincible, he was a teenager.

No, it wasn't until the pod slowed to a stop, surrounded by cheering masses. Only then he could feel. Only then did everything make sense. Only then he saw his mother, standing in her spot, visibly shaken. He then was being carried away, his fists in the air. He had done it! Again!


	8. Deathwatch Rise

**Chapter 8: Deathwatch Rise**

If there was one thing Panaka hated more than the Jedi, it was Duchess Satine. She had lead the people of Mandalor into an age of peace. Did she not know, it was only through war that one was made stronger. As he stood on the cliffs overlooking Sundari, the wind billowing and throwing his cloak all around, he wondered where the audacity came from that made the Duchess turn her back on the proud heritage of her fathers and fathers-fathers.

Their blood called from the dust for him to save Mandalor's honor. He had to save the people from the whims of a mad woman who wanted nothing but to be slaves to the Republic and their peaceful virtues.

"Mandalor," his second said, stepping up behind him, looking at his master, "The Kaminoans have agreed to send us three battalions of clone Death Watch warriors."

"I expect it was for a pretty penny," Panaka scowled, rainclouds building in the far distant plains.

"Let's just say they weren't all that charitable," the man snarled, "It'll take us nearly three years to pay them off."

"Once we have the planet," Panaka pointed out, "We'll have enough money to pay them off."

"Maybe," he said, not all that convinced.

"I realize you do not approve of my methods, Pre Vizsla," he said, continuing to look down upon the planet, "But there are reasons of mine for everything. We are working towards your freedom, my friend. You must believe me on that."

Pre Vizsla was silent a second before answering. "I know that," he said in his calculating manner, "But this uprising is more than just a fight for liberation. It's to regain our identity. It'll blaze our names across the stars, for a thousand years. We'll build an empire across the stars of our warriors."

"An empire?" Panaka said sardonically, his helmet moving ever slowly to look up at the stars appearing as the sun set, "My, don't you have ambitions Vizsla. Let me be clear, my second. I am not into conquering galaxies and subjecting peoples without number. I am here for only one goal. Mandalor. If you want an empire, I suggest you join one of the greater factions. But not under my watch."

"You are Mandalor," his second said, bowing slowly, "I will obey."

"Yes I am," Panaka said, "Now go."

Pre stood slowly and stalked off. Panaka knew he meant well, but he didn't like his attitude. He raised his wrist communicator and pressed the open channel button.

"Yes Mandalor?" the young and vivacious Bo'Katan replied.

"Keep an eye on Vizsla for me," he ordered, "I do not like his attitude as of late. If there is any sign of deception..."

"Understood," she said, and the channel closed.

* * *

Vader walked down the streets, his hands clasped behind his back, making him hunch slightly over. He let the Force fill his senses. He could feel the happy feelings of children at play. The sour disappointment of an elderly woman that her husband had forgotten their anniversary. A rich man trying to cheat some employees out of their wages.

However, despite seeming like a tourist to the locals, he was really reaching out, trying to feel for any hostile intent towards the Duchess. Obi-wan might very well believe everything he heard from the Duchess, but his objectivity he could sense was clouded by this woman. She had meant a great deal to him once. That much was certain. If it would have any undesirable effects upon his master's performance...he shuddered to think so.

He felt the vague sense of the mystical, and he stopped in the street. Directly below he could feel something. Magic maybe? The longer he reached out towards it, the more he was sure it was not entirely of the natural. He glanced and saw a grate covering a drain. He reached out with the Force and feeling the heavy cover, lifted it off, and walking over, sat down and slid his legs into the opening. He could smell a rancor stench as it wafted up, but using the Force to cloud his mind.

Down he slipped into the sewers under Sundari and begun to make his way towards the magical.

* * *

Obi-wan walked with the Duchess as she strolled onto the balcony overlooking the city below. They had spoken much of politics and now they were done going round and round. As she leaned forward, he looked over and saw the slender way she still held herself. She still hadn't lost much of the beauty that had attracted him as a young man.

"How is your apprentice?" she finally asked, "Does he appear to be on his way to the perfect Jedi?"

He snorted. "He's a d-n fool at times," he shook his head, "Willful, arrogant. But strong. He's a powerful one. His connection to the Force is...very impressive. I know he shall be a powerful Jedi. Perhaps greater then even Master Yoda."

"And how is your master?' she asked, not looking at him, but watching the setting sun.

"Not enjoying his council seat," he remarked, "that's for sure."

"No," she murmured, "He didn't seem the one drawn to power."

"No," he agreed. "He was not."

* * *

Vader stepped inside a small room adjacent to the sewer and was at once assailed as it were by green fumes that wrapped themselves around him. An old woman's voice cackled in the dark.

"I have seen your future, Qymaen jai Sheelal," she crooned, "Into fire and death you will walk. You will defy your order. You shall face the Chosen One. And one of you will be victorious. And the name, Darth Vader, shall live in the darkest fears of a billion souls on a billion worlds. But whom shall wear the mask the name goes to? Would you like to know? Would you?!"

And a high pitched screams overwhelmed his senses and before he knew it he was unconscious.

* * *

"It really hurt when you left," she said, finally drawing to the point they didn't want to explore, "You know that."

"My place is in the Order, as it was then," he said, "But believe me, if you had just spoken the word, I would have stayed."

"Would you have been content?" she wondered aloud.

"If you would have had me," he said, "Yes."

Just then, Obi-wan felt the Force hit him hard, warning him for his apprentice. He stiffened and not even taking a second to think, used to Force to leap off the patio and stretching his arms soared over the streets, the force propelling his like an aircraft towards his troubled padawan.

* * *

"The time had come," Panaka said, standing before his troops via a hologram, "Time to take back what is ours. The Jedi have been lured away, and now we can take the palace by storm! Join me in the attack. For Mandalor will be saved!"

And with that, he turned, his elite bodyguard jetting off towards the city. And from his base on Mount Tanor, over three hundred jet-packed equipped suits of armor, each with a fierce member of Death Watch inside, took off. They all aimed for one place. Sundari.


	9. The Guest

**Chapter 9: The Guest**

Nighttime had fallen over Tatooine, and Anakin was sitting inside, giving a retelling of his wild adventure during the race. But, no one was paying attention and very soon he had given up. Some people were just impossible to please.

"One day I'm going to take up moisture farming," Owen said, yet again voicing his dreams aloud in the family room.

"One day I'll be a Jedi," Anakin replied.

"You and your fairy tales," Cliegg shook his head, "Listen to me Anakin, you are a fair pilot. You could always get a job with the Hutts transporting for them. Perhaps you could Captain one of their massive warships. But, I will not have any such nonsense in this house. Now, why can't you have dreams like your brother?"

"Because they aren't dreams," the teenager shook his head, "Dreams are meant to inspire."

"And his don't?" Cliegg asked, and Shmi could feel another argument coming on.

"Listen," she said, hoping to keep the peace, "There is nothing bad about a simple life, Anakin. As a matter of fact, I think you should seriously consider that."

"Whatever," Anakin rolled his eyes and standing up walked out of the room and outside.

The night was very cool compared to the blistering heat of the day. He could feel that no one cared in there about his dreams. They only wanted him beaten down. It wasn't even the normal teenage self-pity. No, he could really sense it in them. He could feel their disapproval.

No, he had never been one of them. Why have the last name of Skywalker, if he was never to walk among the sky? Out in the stars? He had somewhere though he felt he could do some good and he'd be appreciated.

He had barely headed out and was gone, when a tall hooded figure stepped up to the door of the Lars home and pressed the door bell. A few seconds passed and the figure reached out and pressed the button again. The door slid open and in there was the stout form of Cliegg Lars.

"Yes?" he asked, "Maybe I help you?"

"I was hoping I could find shelter for the night," he said, "All the local hotels are packed to overflowing."

"Yeah," Cliegg grumped, "Those blasted races. But before I let you in, I need a good look at you and know your name. Nothing personal but..."

"But indeed," the man said, reaching up with both hands and removing his hood. His long brown hair spilled over his shoulders and the light poured onto his face and his well-trimmed beard, "Do I pass your approval?"

"You seem a nice enough gent," Cliegg shrugged, "But I still need your name."

"Jinn," he named himself, "Qui-Gon Jinn."

* * *

It took him a while in the dark. He felt drawn towards a house, near the edge of the marketplace. There was no need to be afraid of the night here in Mos Eisley. Sure, there was the occasional scoundrel, but they seemed to keep closer to the edge of the small desert community. Here, he was safe.

The sand crunched under his feet as he passed by a few houses with lit windows. He took a short glance around, and took to a small alleyway. This was the fastest way to the poorer residential area. Well, perhaps that was a kind way of saying, the slaver part of Mos Eisley.

The Hutt's were an empire built upon the backs of slaves and criminals across a hundred different inhabited worlds. They had outposts on twice that many moons and dead planets. In the ancient past, they had once been a power that was rivaled by none. But, the rise of the Galactic Republic had closed many of their open routes of commerce and trade, but they managed a fairly good crime empire. And every city had at least one slave district. Nal Shada had seven.

He entered and was at once greeted by the sight of impoverishment. Fires burned from old trash dispensers and the slaves gathered around them. The run down huts were in many places simply pieces of wood clamped together, and some were simply tents. He made his way, his heart bleeding at the sight of such suffering. Many of the slaves were curled up on the ground, no blanket to cover them from the night air. And the slaves came from every race.

There was great fear in the Hutt families that slaves would murder their masters. So, it was illegal to house them in the same house as their masters. Put them all together, it was easier to control.

Letting his senses guide him, he soon arrived at a small, rundown shack. He stood outside the doorway, covered by a heavy cloth, although a small glow of yellow light could be seen through the blanket. He hesitated. How did one act in such an environment? Did you knock on the door? Did you just walk in? Did you call their name? He glanced around, and he spotted a Rodian walk up to another shed and slap on the wall. He watched as he was brought in by the people inside and decided to follow suit.

He slapped on the door, wondering if he was really an idiot or not. This wasn't exactly the best place to be coming at night. There was a scattering of noise and the tiniest crack appeared in the doorway.

"Excuse me?" Padme said, "I am...uh...Ana..Ana?"

"Anakin," he volunteered, "It's nice to see you Padme."

Padme's eyes darted back and forth, unsure what to say. She looked indeed very beautiful in the dark, he noted with almost a sense of satisfaction. But, he wasn't sure what she'd do. She seemed between curiosity and running for it. Finally, she seemed to settle upon a compromise.

"What...what do you want?" she asked, obviously afraid of being beaten or something.

"I was wondering if you'd come with me," he offered.

Her eyes widened before narrowing. "Where?" she asked.

"I was just wanting to take a walk and want you to come with me," he said, holding out his hand, "Want to come?"

She looked as if she was going to run, but then, she nodded and said, "Al-alright."

She hesitantly reached out and took his hand, and the confident podracer walked with the young slave out into the night.


	10. Two Worlds Apart

**Chapter 10: Two Worlds Apart**

Anakin walked with Padme through the street, gently holding her hand. The special intuition he had allowed him to know how to act around this special woman. At last in his mind she was special. But that was all that was needed. He led her towards the walls of the Mos Eisely, their hand touching but at the same time never really _touching_. She was no way in a frame of mind to be able to give herself fully over to trust, although she was taking a gamble.

How would it be to be a slave? Even as he talked to her and she made small and hesitant remarks, his mind wandered to that. What would it be like to know you had no control over your destiny? It was common knowledge that the slaves of the Hutt Families were implanted with microchips that if one got too far away from their masters it would signal a detonation. Or, as he liked to say, 'Blow you up. Boom!'

The approached the wall and stopped there, looking at the less then most well fortified wall. Many places were falling into disrepair, with constant monthly attacks from Tusken Raiders being more and more brutal.

"One day," he said, waving past it, "I'll no longer see this wall. I'll be long gone. One day I'll be a Jedi and I'll free all the slaves."

"Why?" she asked, glancing down at him. She was a tiny taller than he was and so he had to look up.

"No one should ever live as a slave to another," he said, looking at the dark figure that the moons lit in his mind an appropriate light.

A few seconds passed before she spoke. "Are you just saying that to impress me?" she asked, "Or do you really mean that."

He blinked at her and looked over at the walls. It was one of those questions that no matter what he said, he knew she would believe it to be whatever she wanted it to be. No matter, he would just tell the truth.

"Honestly," he said, "I can't imagine being a slave under the heel of someone else. I'm a Skywalker, not a simple designation. I am meant for more and I'd like to believe we all are. Call it wishful thinking if you want, but I feel that way."

"My name is Padme Nuberrie," she said slowly. "I'm from Naboo or so I am told. My family was hit by pirates. I've heard that the name means 'Desert Flower'. Although I don't know if it's true. I have long since learned that dreams are best not said out loud."

Anakin looked at her and waited for her to continue. But she said nothing. Not a single word. But, he didn't give up. That was not his way.

"And what are your dreams?" he asked.

"I dream that...no, I won't say."

"Come on," he pressed, "Tell me, it'll be our secret."

"No," she shook her head, "I won't. Not that I don't trust you...but..."

"I understand," he said, deciding to let the matter rest.

A few minutes of silence passed as they stood there and watched the stars above. But, as with all things, it couldn't last forever. At long last he turned her around and began to walk back to her place.

"Why?" she asked as they walked.

"Why what?" he asked, although he assumed what she was referring to.

"Why are you showing me any interest?" she asked, "Are you looking for a quick fix? Because...I...well, I wouldn't say no, but I'm not that type of person. Even as a slave."

He frowned. Was that really what she thought? If so, she had the wrong idea entirely.

"I do find you an interesting person," he said, "And I find I am liking you the longer we are together. And no, I'm not looking for anything like that. One day...maybe. But today is not that day."

She contemplated it for a second and slowly nodded. And while she didn't say anything, the distance between them closed ever so slightly and her hand gripped his in a tiny degree of desire. He nodded inwardly at the progress. It would take time, but he had time.

* * *

Blaster fire rang out through Sundari as Death Watch troopers overpowered the Security Forces of the city. Mandalorian Security Forces were equipped with force fields that were great when facing riots with sticks and stones. But what was being fired at the could break their bones. Within minutes they had all but taken over the city, and Satine was forced to watch as Panaka and his second, Pre Vizla strode into the Throne Room of the Palace, the guards moving before her and shielding her with their bodies. But, they were quickly overcome by Death Watch troopers that came through the open windows near the ceiling.

"Duchess Satine Kwaryz," Panaka smirked. Although she couldn't see his face because of the helmet he wore, his voice dripped contempt as he strode forward.

"Egra Panaka," Satine said, leaving her hands laid on the arm rests of her chair and not giving him any reason to take offense, "You are come to surrender then? Very well. I accept it."

Panaka laughed, but it was without mirth. "I had heard you were a feisty one," he said, "And I had always wondered if the rumors were true. Unfortunately for you, I come not to surrender. But I come to place you under arrest."

Satine raised an imperious eyebrow. "And what crime have I done?" she asked, "I recall that I am legal and duly elected head of this people. Where can I-"

"Allowing Mandalore to lose its warrior ways was bad enough," he said, cutting her off with a flourish of his hand, "Allowing it to become soft was crime enough. But to allow Jedi here? You have only compounded your errors, Duchess. And by this time tomorrow, you shall wish you had never been born."

"I am ready for whatever things you plan for me," she said, raising her chin, "I am not afraid."

"Are you so sure?" Panaka asked, and pulling out his blaster pistol motioned for her to rise. With grace and dignity she did so, and was soon surrounded by Death Watch that glided down to the ground and electro-cuffed her hands behind her back. At least she didn't grovel.

"Take her to the Maximum Security Facility in the Southwestern Quadrant of the city," Vizla ordered and he watched her being taken away.

Panaka stepped up to the throne and sat down in it. Oh, it felt good! This had been a moment he had looked for. And look! The sky was perfect. Clearly that was sign enough he was meant to be here in this seat. But, he did not wait.

"I want those Jedi found," he ordered Vizla, "They must not contact their Republic. We need time to get those clones here."

"They will be executed my lord," Pre Vizla said and turning on his heal head out to personally hunt down the Jedi.


	11. Tunnel Wars

Chapter 11: Tunnel Wars

"What happened?" Vader asked, his head spinning. He could sense Obi-wan standing near him. But, his head hurt so bad he could barely see.

"You were knocked out by magic," Kenobi replied, placing a hand on his apprentice's shoulder. With a push of the Force, he reached through the young man's head and began to suppress the pain. It was a simple healing technique all Jedi knew, but for more intense procedures, you'd either have to go to a Master Healer or to one of the medical technicians of the Galactic Republic.

"Magic?" Qymaen asked, feeling his mind began to clear. Then the memories began to reorder themselves in his mind. His eyes widened. "The old woman! Where is she?"

"What old woman?" his Master asked, water dripping from the ceiling of the tunnel onto the stone floor.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

"She was the one all the magic came from," he said, looking around, noting just how dark it was in here. "She spoke to me."

Obi-wan sighed. "Too bad the Force isn't the only power in the universe in which one can draw strength," he said, "What did she say to you?"

"Ummm..." he began slowly, "She knew my name. Said I'd walk in fire and death."

Obi-wan looked at his padawan. Fire and death? What was that supposed to mean? He could feel the young man was about to spill the rest, and so decided to keep to himself.

"She also said..." Vader slowly said, pausing in thought.

Obi-wan felt the indecision to continue speaking. "Yes?" he asked, "What?"

_"You will defy your order. You shall face the Chosen One. And one of you will be victorious."_

"Ramblings mostly," he lied, although he hoped Obi-wan wouldn't notice.

Obi-wan did. But he left it at that. There was too much going on to be listening too long to this story. A thunder clap seemed to roll throughout the city above, along with a couple more. Vader sniffed the air.

"Besides the stink down here," he said, "I don't smell anything out of place. What's with the thunder?"

"That's not thunder," Obi-wan explained.

Vader raised an eyebrow. "What is it then?" he asked.

"Death Watch," he replied, and suddenly there was a sound of laser fire down the sewers. Obi-wan held up his hand and felt out with the Force. He could hear the rodents of the sewer scuffling over the floor. He could hear water as it condensed into a single drop and began to pull down towards the floor. He could hear individual fickle matter as it swirled among other pieces of organic waste.

But then like a wall of stone he hit the fear of men as they fled into the sewers, the rearmost person firing from pistols at the people pursuing. He couldn't tell if they were Death Watch warriors that had been forced into the tunnels by stalwart Mandalorian Security Officers. Or if they were the Security Officers flying from the advancing wrath of Death Watch.

They were coming closer, the laser fire growing louder and louder, and shouts in the Taung language were being heard. Obi-wan held up three fingers, signaling how many were in the first group and five on his other hand, signaling how many was in the last group. They could hear splashing now and soon the first Mandalorian was running past them, followed by the two others, firing purple lasers backwards.

With a combined lightning fast pulling of their lightsabers, Obi-wan's blue lightsaber flashed into existence. Vader's own two lightsabers flashed to life and he pushed himself off the ground and with a pull of the Force, the three men were pulled sideways towards them. They were turn to forward by the Force to face the two Jedi. Two weren't wearing any helmets but one was wearing the fanged visored helmet of the Mandalorian Security forces. And that was what their armored showed.

"Stay behind us!" Obi-wan shouted and with a swish of both Jedi's hands, they tossed the three men behind them.

They rushed out into the tunnels, timing their charge for right when the group would be rushing past them, shouting to give chase to the fleeing enemy forces. Obi-wan swept his lightsaber upwards, slashing upwards along the back of the lead Death Watch trooper, cutting through his armor and with a scream he fell forward. Vader cr and stabbed, point his blades sideways. The Mandalorian right of him received a lightsaber through the pelvis and he collapsed, falling into the sewage. The second blade stabbed through the lower regions of the woman on his left, and he swept right, cutting her almost completely in half.

The other two Mandalorians retreated, firing a flurry of shots at the Jedi. They deflected them with ease, Vader going before Obi-wan and used the Force to sin his two lightsabers in a windmill before him, spinning on the palms of his hands. The blades deflected each bolt of energy, sending them careening into walls and the sewage.

Obi-wan advanced behind him, cutting sideways and decapitating the male Mandalorian who had fallen with the pelvis wound as he tried to bring his pistol to bear on the Jedi.

"Get out of here!" one of the Death Watch troopers yelled as Vader was right before him. He tried to jump backwards, reaching to activate his jetpack. But Vader swept his blades in a wide arc and cut off the legs and arms of the Mandalorian and then used the Force to throw him against a wall. The last Death Watch trooper turned and ignited his jet pack, and rose rapidly. But, he was inexperienced and panicked and he slammed into the ceiling. His helmet shattering from the force of the impact, he collapsed lifeless into the muck.

Vader looked around at the quick and rapid defeat of the Death Watch troopers. By his reckoning, only five seconds had passed. And indeed, the Security Force personnel had been completely astonished by how quickly they had eliminated their opponents. To them, it had been nothing but a continuous whirl of laser swords.

"Thank you, Jedi," the leader said, "We owe you our lives."

Obi-wan turned to them. "Who are you?"

"I am Captain Tarpals of the Mandalorian Security Forces," the leader said, "And privates Jar-Jar Binks and Boss Nash. We are from the Southern Sundari Garrison."

Obi-wan clipped his lightsaber back onto his utility belt. He could sense no deception in these men. They were who they said they were. He looked at each man and could feel the stench of defeat, fear and sorrow on their bodies like an aroma.

"I take it the situation is bad," he said.

"They came on us so fast we couldn't prepare an effective response against their incursion," Tarpals replied.

"Doesn't help you never even took such a militant rogue force on your doorstep seriously," Qymean snorted, continuing to recon around the sewage tunnel, the green and blue blades of his double lightsabers illuminating the dark.

Obi-wan closed his eyes in annoyance. His young apprentice didn't exactly have a flair for diplomacy. He'd have to work more on that with him.

"We need to alert the Supreme Chancellor of the events of today," he said, turning his attention to the men there, "Is there any way to get back to the landing platform?"

The guardsmen shook his head. "They've gotten control of the landing pad and have at least thirty men there," he replied, "There's no way there."

"Could always get to Uptariea on the Western Continent," Binks offered, the young man with bulging eyes and fat lips, "Use the Planetary Core Tether to get there."

"That's classified!" snapped Tarpals.

"What are you talking about?" Obi-wan asked, "There wasn't anything like that when I was here last year."

The Captain closed his eyes. The womp-rat had gotten out of the cage and now there was no way to escape it having been brought up. He looked up and sighed.

"Two years ago the Royal Court ordered the tether built as a planetary emergency measure," he said, "If a massive natural disaster hit one side of the planet, we could evacuate most of the population in less than a day."

"It's completed?" Obi-wan pressed.

"Yes," Binks interjected.

"We need to use it to get in touch with the Republic," Obi-wan said, "That's the only hope you have to reclaim your world."

Tarpals looked uneasy at the prospect of showing an alien such secret technology. Vader returned.

"We've got a dozen coming our way," he announced. "We got to go now."

Obi-wan stared at Tarpals as the man wrestled with his inner-self. He wondered if pride would keep him from seeing the truth. Tarpals suddenly turned on his feet and with a wave, bounded down the sewer labyrinth. And the others followed him.


	12. Desert Thunder, Warrior Pride

**Chapter 12: Desert Thunder, Warrior Pride**

The door opened and in slipped Anakin. It had been a long night, and he was just hoping to get some sleep. He had won another race and had gone out with an amazing woman. Even if she wasn't exactly the most confident of people, he could handle that.

The dim lighting showed him nobody was up. So, he quietly slipped off his shoes near the door and slowly and quietly made his way down the hallway towards where his bedroom was. As he passed the kitchen, he stopped and glanced in. Sitting at the family table, a cup of steaming liquid in between his hands, sat a middle aged Human.

The man had a sandy beard and mullet that went down to his shoulders. He also wore sandy colored clothes. His vibrant green eyes looked at him passed a large nose and his face was one of infinite sadness. And he was studying Anakin.

"Hello," he said in a rich voice. His tone was low, but he had a voice that even in whispers seemed able to command attention.

"Uh…hi," the young thirteen year old managed, "Qui-Gon right? What are you doing in my house?"

The man didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then, just as Anakin was going to repeat his question, the man seemed to relax. He lifted his cup and sipped out of the cup.

"Yes, my boy, you remember. I'm Qui-Gon Jinn and your folks were kind enough to allow me to stay while the attendees of the race were still here," he explained, putting the cup down on the table.

"Huh," Anakin said, stepping into the room and feeling an urge to fill a cup of water. "Even though I know you, Cliegg doesn't. And Cliegg doesn't take kindly to strangers. How'd you convince him to let you stay?"

"'Cliegg'?" Qui-Gon asked slowly, "Why do you call him that? Is he not your father?"

Anakin grabbed a less-than-clean cup off the counter and filled it up three-fourths of the way full. "Step-dad," he said, "He married mom not too long ago. Mom wants me to call him 'dad' but he ain't my dad."

"I see," Qui-Gon said slowly, "May I ask how your father died?"

Anakin hesitated. Frankly, Mom had never been inclined to talk about his actually parentage. He had as a kid thought it was due to Shmi just being stubborn. But, he was wondering if it was something more basic. Perhaps there was (as crazy as it sounded) simply no father at all. Perhaps he had been conceived without copulation. Not that he understood what the word was. He had heard adults using it though when talking about having kids.

"Never knew my dad," he said instead, "But you still never answered my question. How'd you convince Cliegg to let you stay?"

Qui-Gon smiled at the change of subject. One hand move below the table to rest on his knee. "My good charm I guess," he shrugged, "Besides, it was no coincidence I came here. The Force guided me here."

"The Force?" Anakin asked, leaning against the counter and taking a drink of the cold liquid, "Isn't that the Jedi voodoo that gives them their power?"

Qui-Gon again smiled at the terming of the Force as 'Jedi voodoo'. There was so much about the mystical power that inhabited the Galaxy that the child would never understand. Without the proper training that was.

"The Force is much more complex than that," Qui-Gon assured him.

Anakin pushed himself off the counter and moving to the chair opposite the stranger pulled it out and took a seat. He had always wanted to meet a Jedi, but until now he hadn't. The man didn't look all that…impressive, to be honest.

"I had a dream I was a Jedi," he said, waving his hand, "I freed all the slaves and led them to a world of their own."

"Perhaps you could be," Qui-Gon said, pulling up a small device from his clothing.

"What's that?" Anakin asked, always intrigued by technology, especially ones he had never seen before.

Qui-Gon looked at it and up at Anakin. "This device is carried by Jedi Masters," he explained, "It allows one to see the Force potential of individuals. It sends out a wave of noise that can only be heard by midichlorians."

"Midichlorians?" Anakin asked, intrigued even more as he listened to the man.

"They are the building blocks of the Force," Qui-Gon explained, "The Force created them and inserts them as the Force wills in anything it sees fit as having the Force. They are what allows Jedi to touch the Force. Do not worry, this device will not hurt. Can I use it?"

Anakin shrugged. There was no harm in it. As he watched the Jedi touch a dial, he doubted anything would happ-

_This is Anakin Skywalker. – Blaster fire rang out in the distance. – He is the Chosen One. – Energy beams snapped to life. – Surrender to us! – Lightning cackled. – I am the Chosen One! – Podracers crashed in the side of cliffs. – I love you, Padme. – A gust of hot wind accompanied a fire as it roared. – Arise! – Heavy, even metallic breathing drowned out everything._

His eyes snapped awake, to find Qui-Gon blasted across the room and slammed against the wall. Every glass object was shattered and every door was flung open. The device lay, electricity circling it. Footsteps could be heard from the end of the hallway.

"What's going on out here?" Cliegg bellowed, running into the kitchen, to stop short at the destruction he saw, "What in the name of the two suns is going on?"

"Anakin?" Shmi exclaimed, rushing into the room to circle her son in an embrace.

"Are-are-are you alright?" Anakin asked slowly, concern filling him as Qui-Gon slowly pushed himself out of the wall and leaving an indentation of where his body had struck the wall.

"I-I got to-admit," Qui-Gon said slowly, his body trembling from the impact, "I've never had such a strong reaction before. In fact, there has never been anything quite like it."

"Quite like what?" Cliegg demanded, "What's going on?"

"Anakin is a Jedi," Qui-Gon said.

* * *

The car jolted and the bump sent everyone flying across the room to crash into the walls on the other side of the car. Most of the people were civilians running from the chaos of the abrupt coup that was shredding their government apart. Five, however, were by no means civilians. And two of them weren't even from Mandalor or any of the neighboring planets.

"I thought you said this was safe!" Obi-wan growled to Tarpals as he rubbed his head from where he had bumped it against the wall. Sparks flew out of the windows as the car caught the edges of the track.

"I never said that," Tarpals snapped, a hand massaging his shoulder which had taken the full impact of a woman's shoulder as she was flung at him by the jolting car. "I said it was new!"

"Go figure," Vader grunted, the only one who had thought to strap into the harnesses the tether provided, "I'm the only one with brains."

"Speak for yourself mother Jedi!" Nass said, pushing himself out of Binks who had managed to get wrapped around him during the last jolt.

Obi-wan went to grab a harnass starp when another jolt sent another mass of sentients crashing through the car. He missed the strap and slammed back against the far wall. Using the force, he flung himself to the chair and grabbed it. He pulled himself around and began to strap in.

"Upteria better be worth it!" he snarled as another jolt slammed the back of the head against the wall.

"Better be," Tarpals said, following suit and retrying to get harnessed in. His last attempt had utterly failed. "There's nowhere else to go except there. Death Watch has most of the major spaceports under lock and key."

"That settles it nicely then," Obi-wan retorted.

"You know what I did before I joined Death Watch? I was a carpenter. I had a modest farm, and my carpentry helped keep it afloat. There wasn't much, but I had enough. I had a wife and child. It was more or less paradise. But then came the Jedi. Kenobi and his master Yoda destroyed my home, looking for rebels who had assassinated the Monarch. My wife and child were killed in the cross-fire. I vowed that day I'd have revenge. I must have my revenge."

Storm fronts were shadowing the far off plains of the continent but they held absolutely no power here to those who watched and waited. Pre Vizsla leaned against the rooftop, magnetic binoculars in hand and zooming in as refugees spilled out of the tether train and entered Upteria. He listened to the words of his second as he went on about revenge. Let him rant. He had decided they'd go with a squad here to keep an eye on the Jedi. The rest were on the far side of the city.

"Look at that," he said, handing him the device, "I see him."

"Really?" the man said, eagerly grabbing the binoculars. He zoomed in on the crowd. Frantically he swept back and forth, trying to find him. "I don't-"

He grunted as the blade drove up into his jawline and broke through the skull cavity and pierced his brains. The head and body dropped, blood flowing from the death wound. The blade pulled out as it retracted into the gauntlet. Pre Vizsla grabbed the edge of the binoculars and pulled them out of the dead hands of the Mandalorian. Lifting them, he zoomed in on Kenobi as he walked through the crowd, following them 'stealthily' towards the spaceport.


	13. What are Jedi Made of?

**Chapter 13: What are Jedi Made of?**

"Hello Ani," Owen called out to him, walking through the sand towards Anakin's workshop. "You know, smashing the dishes are one thing. But hiding in your little workshop isn't going to change anything."

"I think best while tinkering," Anakin replied, fitting in the last power module into the stripped down, bare bones protocol droid he was working on.

"Oh yeah?" Owen teased, pushing tools aside and himself up onto a cabinet to sit, "Whatcha thinking about?"

"Qui-Gon," Anakin replied, touching the back power switch.

"And..." Owen pressed.

"He wants me to go with him to train to be a Jedi," came the reply.

"Good thing you said no," Owen smiled and nodded, "There's a bunch here on Tatooine that needs doing."

Anakin didn't respond, staring at the droid. Even his podracer didn't compare to what he was building now. A friend and a companion. One that didn't fight back, and had no complicated life. Just made to serve.

"You did say no, right?" Owen asked.

Anakin turned on the switch and the protocal droid came to life. It sat up, the lights of it's visual monitors flickering gently before it came on brighter. As they lit up, it slowly stood up from it's sitting position. Monitors and dials whirled inside of it.

"I am C-3PO," the droid announced, "Human-cyborg relations. How may I serve you?"

"C-3PO?" Anakin said, "Is that your name?"

The droid stopped and considered it a second. "Yes, that is my name."

"I'm your maker," he said, "Anakin Skywalker. I'm going away, but your will serve my family until I come back to retrieve you, ok?"

The droid bowed slightly. "Of course," he said, "I am a protocal droid. My main function is to serve."

Anakin turned around, nodding. Owen's eyes were wide.

"You can't be serious," he said, his face looking a bit thunder struck.

"I am serious," Anakin said, patting C-3PO's shoulder, "It's what I've always dreamed of doing."

Owen snorted. "It's a damn fool crusade!" he shook his head, "That's what you are after!"

"What can I say to make you understand?" Anakin retorted, getting very annoyed, "All you care about it small dreams. I need to be big. I need to actually do something with my life."

"And how is moisture farming not do something?" Owen demanded, "It's hard work that benefits this planet."

"Oh great," Anakin replied, holding up his hands sarcastically, "A planet and perhaps ten thousand people that aren't Tusken Raiders. That's a real big thing. I want to help millions!"

"Because you are egocentric," Owen pointed an accusing finger, "You want to be popular. That's all."

"NO!" Anakin yelled, "I am going to do what needs to be done because it's the right thing to do! I don't even care if anyone knows I helped them."

With that, he stormed from the workshop. Owen remained sitting on the counter, staring at C-3PO. The droid looked absently at him. Shaking his head, he jumped down and walked out of the workshop and towards the house.

* * *

Cliegg hadn't stuck around to say goodbye. He was also of the same opinion that Anakin's leaving was nothing but a selfishness that refused to any consideration for his family that Owen had. So, as he stood outside, preparing to head off, only Shmi stood there, hugging him in a tight embrace. Qui-Gon stood at the corner of the street, his arms folded in the arm sleeves.

"I'm scared, Mom," he admitted to her, his face pressed against her shoulder.

"Use it to propel you forward," she advised him, "I know you can do it. You have done it to win the Boonta Eve Races. Go, Anikan. And don't look back. And don't come back."

Anakin gave her one more tight squeeze and turning around, sticking his chin stiffly in the air, headed off towards Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon put a hand on his shoulder and with a reassuring squeeze, headed off towards the street and towards the spaceport.

They reached the end of the street and he stopped and turned towards the house near the corner. Padme was standing outside, sweeping the dirt off the front porch. Qui-Gon stopped and looked down at him.

"It would be best to just go," he said, "Be better that way."

"No," Anakin shook his head, "I can't. Not until I have said goodbye."

Qui-Gon didn't look happy at all but he nodded. "Alright," he said, "But make it quick."

Anakin took off, hurrying as fast as he could up to Padme. Sensing his approach, she looked up, and a small smile played across her face. Until she saw the pack on his shoulder. Her smile faltered.

"Hi," she said slowly, "Are you...are you going somewhere?"

"Yeah," he said, suddenly unsure how exactly he was to break the news to her. "I'm going to be trained by a Jedi. I'll be a full-fledged Jedi someday."

She looked at him, a little crestfallen. "Oh," she muttered, "I see. I guess this is goodbye."

He blinked at her. No, there was so much he wanted to say. Not that he knew what to say. But that didn't change the face that there was so much he wanted to say.

"I'll come back and free you," he said, "I promise."

He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. He felt her stiffen and he turned on his heel and strode away. He didn't look up at Qui-Gon, who looked less than pleased. As he strode away, he didn't see Padme looking a little happier as she touched the cheek he had kissed.

* * *

Anakin sat outside the _Mos Es-pirits Cantina_ near the spaceport. Qui-Gon had told him he was in need of buying a new ship, as his own had long been bartered away for money to stay here. As he sat there, he watched all the people going about the business of the day. Pilots, slavers, vagabonds, bounty hunters and criminals. They all went through the streets, not noticing and not being noticed.

"Ah Anakin!" a voice called out and Anakin turned to see Maul stepping towards him. Maul was wearing a massive black robe that had a deep hood over his head and resting on his horns. His eyes...blazed as if with an intense fury. For once, he really wondered exactly who this man was.

"Hey Maul," he waved his hand, "What brings you here?"

"I could ask you the same question," Maul said, his voice seeming dark and brooding, "But enough. You and I both know you have potential. Potential for greatness. I have...friends who could show you how to use your power and potential. How to command and control the fate you deserve and desire without fear of it being taken away. A chance to escape this forsaken planet."

"Actually," Anakin said, "I'm going to be doing that exact thing."

Maul stared at him. "And who are you going with?" he asked.

"A man named, Qui-Gon Jinn," Anakin said, "He's a Je-"

"Nobody of any consequence," Qui-Gon spoke up, stepping behind Anakin. Anakin could feel a certain amount of tension between the two men. "Come Anakin, it is time to go."

"Sorry Maul," Anakin said, standing, "If he hadn't asked first, I might have accepted your offer."

"Don't worry," Maul smiled viciously in the direction of the Jedi, "The offer the Sith make will always be available to you."


	14. Coruscant Blues

**Chapter 14: Coruscant Blues**

The ship approached the planet, hundreds of ships buzzing around the busy epicenter of the galaxy. Coruscant was not the dead center of the galaxy. That honor went to the planet Byss. But for the weight of government and art and culture, Coruscant was rivaled to none.

The height of power included a very open policy. Between the lumbering might of the Republic's military and the Jedi Order, there was no way that anyone dare assault the planet. The Mandalorian Freighter _Marran Baccen_ glided towards the planet, the forked solar panels at either side of the freighter which doubled as a passenger liner turning as it passed through the outbound space traffic and entered the planetary atmosphere.

Down it flew, clouds parting as it broke through the ever present cloud cover and entered the busy and hectic planetary traffic. Hover cars, speeders, military and police vehicles dotted the skyline as the lanes crisscrossed above and between skyscrapers. The planet was dotted by over seventy billion massive structures, and if one had not known it, this once had been a wilderness of forests and grasslands. Even the planets single mountain range was hidden from view by the info-structure of the planet.

The ship made its way towards one of the spaceports and with a shudder it slid into the only open slot. The doors to the ship opened and out poured people more than ready to leave an otherwise cramped spaceship.

"About time," Vader grunted, his back popping as the small group exited the ship and onto the open platform.

"We must get to the Temple to talk to the High Council," Obi-wan said, ready to get to work. He turned to the three Mandalorian soldiers that had come with them. "Welcome to Coruscant."

Tarpals grunted, a hand on his blaster. "I never wanted to come here," he grunted.

Binks looked around, his eyes wide. "This is a pretty massive planet," he said, clearly out of his element. "There must be billions of people living on this planet!"

"Thirty billion at last count," Vader grunted as several heavy set aliens brushed him aside as they wobbled towards a liner about to depart.

More aliens began pouring into the port, as they gathered to get on shuttles and ships bound for off-planet. Obi-wan waved his hand. "Let's get out of here first. And then we can figure out where to go from here."

A wookie growled as he got entered the platform as pushed roughly Nass who grunted. Yeah, they all wanted to get off and about from the landing platform.

"Believe me Anakin," Qui-Gon said, his hands on Anakin's shoulder as he lead the thirteen year old towards the massive temple gates. "There is nothing to be afraid of."

Anakin barely noticed the words. He looked in awe at the line of statues, each statue showing a different Jedi. They stood as silent sentinels, the two next to the long staircase holding carved lightsabers in their hands, their torsos twisted towards the stairs and holding their weapons pressed to their chests, on the side close to the temple itself.

Jedi were passing up and down the stairs. They all wore brown outer robes, with inner sand colored tunics and pants. Their boots were a uniform brown. There were wide-throated snail-looking Ithorians, elongated-bald headed Munns, many humans and even a green and white tattooed Dathomirian.

They approached the gates and they noticed another statue. Qui-Gon stopped and held Anakin back. He was going to ask why he was being stopped but the statue moved and forward stepped a creme-colored robed Jedi. He wore a helmet over his head, with only a very small eye-slot acting as an opening. Anakin spotted a row of beaded strings hanging from his belt and two lightsabers hanging from either side.

"Who goes there?" the Guardian demanded, "Identify yourselves."

"I am Qui-Gon Jinn and I bring this boy, Anakin Skywalker to meet before the Jedi High Council to bring the matter of training before them," Qui-Gon replied.

The Guardian stared at them, and Anakin could feel the probing of the Force wielders mind. Then, without warning, the probing touched the sensitive area of his Force aroma. A massive bluish-grey wave burst forth from Anakin, catching the Guardian and several other Jedi full force and throwing them back. The Guardian was slammed into a pillar, the stonework cracking around him by the impact. With a grunt he collapsed. Out from unseen heights jumped six other Guardians, the snap-hiss of a dozen lightsabers sounding as they came to life.

They surrounded the two, and Anakin was alarmed. Each Guardian carried two lightsabers, and each lightsaber was a double-bladed lightsaber. They were all green, and he wondered if it was a symbol of their group to carry such.

"What is going on out here?" a deep voice demanded, and the Guardian who had hit the pillar fell to the ground with an umph. "I just felt the most intense raw-energy in the Force I have ever felt. What is...Qui-Gon?"

"Master Windu," Qui-Gon said, giving a small bow to the dark-skinned Human that was stepping up to them.

The Guardians parted ever so slightly, and Anakin was struck by the sheer majesty of what he saw before him. Qui-Gon seemed more an earthly wisdom type of Jedi. But this Master Windu, standing with shaved head and black skin, looking darkly at them...this was what he envisioned true Jedi might to look like.

"What are you doing back here?" Windu asked, staring at Qui-Gon, "I thought you were leaving the Order to never come back."

Anakin's eyes turned to Qui-Gon in surprise. Had he really left the Jedi Order.

"Once again you misunderstood what I said," Qui-Gon said, "I said I wouldn't return to Coruscant until there was a d-n good reason to return. But I never forsook my oaths to the Order."

"And what is this 'd-n good reason'?" Windu asked, "What brings you here?"

Qui-Gon turned to the boy and nodded. Windu raised an eyebrow and looked down. His hard eyes turned harder as if he was observing something he didn't quiet believe or understand. After what felt like an eternity of standing there, Windu held up his finger and the Guardians backed off, turning off their lightsabers.

"Come with me," Windu said, and the two followed him into the courtyard of the Temple of the Jedi.

"I am sorry," Obi-wan said, turning to Captain Tarpals, "Outsiders are not allowed within the Jedi Temple."

Tarpals frowned as he heard this. He looked up at the massive spires of the Temple and at the Jedi walking about it. He looked back at his men, who did not seem eager to hear this. He looked back at Kenobi, his anger rising.

"You dragged us off Mandalor Jedi," he reminded him, jabbing a finger into Kenobi, "And you say we can't go in with you?"

"These are traditions dating back centuries," Vader explained, "Bad things seem to happen whenever an outsider enters the Temple. Would you really trespass laws more ancient than all of our lives combined?"

Tarpals considered that as he looked from Jedi to Jedi. Finally he crossed his arms and leaned against the speeder. He could hear his men groaning at the sign of submission. This was not something they wanted to see.

"Dang it..." he heard Binks mutter, "I've always wanted to go inside the Temple."

"Make it quick," he grunted, "I don't know if us outsiders can be contained here for too long."

Obi-wan and Vader glanced at each other and turning left them on their own.


End file.
